Equivalent Trade
Part 1: Bitter
This idea has been tickling me in the back of my head for sometime and I have finally been able to scratch the itch.
It was the middle of the cold day in the city. The sky was clear and the blueness of the air seemed to only emphasis the bone chilling cold. A small, hunched figure walked up to a small, old bar. He opened the door and closed it quickly to keep the cold outside. Tiredly, he shrugged off his coat and hung it on an old coat rack.
The tiny grey haired man lowered himself to a raised stool in a nearly empty bar. He waved down to the bartender and called out in a tired voice, "The usual for me, Hank!"
Hank came over with a shot of whiskey and mug of cheap beer. The old man threw the whiskey down and placed the shot glass hard on the table. He sat in his seat for a minute, staring off in to nothingness as his eyes glazed over from the sudden input of alcohol.
He removed his hand from the shot glass and gripped the mug of beer with both hands. Bringing it to his lips, he took a sip. After grimacing, he took a large swill and swallowed to fast to taste the bitter beverage.
Shifting uncomfortably, he removed his left hand from the beer mug as he placed it back on to the table. With his left hand, he rubbed a section of his upper arm uncomfortably.
From behind the bar countertop, Hank called out, "Your arm bothering you again?"
"Yeah," the old man bitterly replied, "My leg, too." He looked out of the grimy window of the bar. A long stretch of silence filled the nearly empty bar before the old man spoke again. "It's going to be another cold, long winter."
"Is that so, sir?" the bartender replied non-commitmently as he dried a mug with a towel.
Another long stretch of silence reached across the room. The old man spoke again, "There was a time I could make a living. I had a profession. Maybe I didn't like it sometimes. Hell, now that I think of it, I see that I didn't like it a lot of the time but I was good at it." He laughed bitterly and took another swill from his mug.
Speaking more to himself, he said sadly, "I lost my livelihood because I discovered something. A lot of people hated me after that." He stared down into the amber beverage.
"People know I am a right now but that doesn't help me. I'm not good at anything else. Too stubborn to fit into a mold. Too old to learn something new." He laughed harshly, "You can't teach an old dog new tricks! Fits too well considering I was a dog of the military for years and years."
He finished off the beer and placed money on the countertop. "Thanks for the ear, Hank."
"No problem, sir," Hank said as the old man climbed off the barstool and walked to the door. He pulled on the worn coat and shrugged it on, pulling it tight around him to protect his body from the bitter cold wind that could now be heard howling outside.
Questions? Comments? Suggestions? Leave a review!
This is the first part. There's a second part on the way. It should be up by Tues. next week but no promises. School work comes first.